


We Look After Each Other

by TheHedgehogSong



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHedgehogSong/pseuds/TheHedgehogSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monty looks after an injured Miller, and maybe a little bit the other way around as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Look After Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> In the same verse as I'd die a million times for you - but you absolutely do not need to read that fic to understand this one.

When Monty had Miller back to their shared hut he let out a breath of relief. Miller had gone on a mission the previous day with Clarke, Octavia and Lincoln to talk with some grounders that had set up camp nearby - they hadn't returned and Bellamy had rounded up a group of them to go on a search party. What they had found was that the original party had been captured and were being kept prisoner - after a short fight though they had got them back. 

Monty wiped a wet rag across Miller's face to wash off the dried blood - Clarke had given him the all clear, although Monty knew she was distracted worrying about Bellamy and offered to clean and dress the minor wounds Miller had himself.  

"I hope Bellamy's alright." Miller murmured and Monty let out a chuckle. 

"What from the head wound or the clear insanity he had slipped into to confess his feelings for Clarke in the middle of a battle?" 

Miller laughed, his whole faced lighting up, before he winced and grabbed at his stomach. 

"Top off." Monty commanded. 

"Yes sir." Miller replied still smiling, before struggling to remove his top, in the end Monty helped him. Miller's torso was littered in bruises and had one or two small cuts but thankfully was more or less intact.  

Monty gently stroked a hand up his side. "Nothing's broken you don't think?" He asked and Miller shook his head.  

"Nah, broken ribs before, this is nowhere near as painful." Miller replied, placing his hand over Monty's. Monty dipped down quickly and gave Miller a kiss. Monty lingered for a moment, keeping the kiss chaste but refusing to move away just yet. He let out a breath and then leant back to clean the cuts on Miller's torso. 

Miller's hand shot up and grasped onto Monty's neck. "I'm fine." He said. 

Monty closed his eyes tight and nodded his head. "I know." Monty breathed, trying to keep it together - he had been doing so well up until now. 

Miller gently pulled Monty by the neck until he was awkwardly resting on his chest, trying to not put any weight on him. Miller stroked his hand through Monty's hair and didn't say anything. 

"I need to clean your cuts." Monty said very quietly, not moving to do anything. 

"They're fine, they can wait." Miller said, moving slightly - encouraging Monty to rearrange into a more comfortable position. Eventually Miller lay on his back, Monty on his side, head buried into Miller's neck but not letting any other part of his body rest on him. "I'm fine." He repeated, starting to stroke his hand through Monty's hair again. 

They lay like that for a while before Miller shuffled around with a pained groan until he was facing Monty, the hand that had been stroking his hair came to cup his face. Miller stroked his thumb over Monty's bottom lip before moving the hand to his waist to pull him closer and kissing him firmly. Monty kissed back - one of his hand going to run his fingers through Miller's hair.  

Monty was aware he was kissing back desperately but at this point he didn't care, if he could without hurting Miller he would have pressed them together as close as physically possible. "Nate." He whispered against his lips as they parted for breath. 

Monty thought he should be used to this by now. Used to the constant threat of death and the possibility of losing everyone he cared about but he wasn't and he hoped he never would be. 

Miller stroked his hand up and down Monty's side. "I'm here. I'm alive." Miller whispered quietly and Monty let out a shaky breath.  

"I was supposed to be taking care of you." Monty said with a smile. 

Miller looked back at him with a serious expression and his hand clenched on Monty's side, "We look after each other." He replied and it made Monty smile wider. 

"Such protective guard dog." Monty replied and Miller huffed out a laugh, diving in to kiss Monty again. This time it wasn't so desperate, it was slow with smiles pressing together. 

"You're one to talk." Miller said against his lips. Monty didn't say anything - it's a side effect of what they've been through that they've become protective of the ones they love, of this little broken family that they've somehow built.  

Miller moved his arm to place his hand in between Monty's shoulder blade to pull him closer but he winced doing so, pulling on the bruised flesh of his torso.  

Monty took Miller by the elbow, and moved his arm so it was in a more comfortable position. "Stop hurting yourself." Monty sighed with a smile, and pushed at Miller to get him to lie on his back again. "I need to tend to your wounds." He said - feeling far better than before. 

Miller let out a huff but didn't give any further protest. Monty picked up the rag and got back to work. 


End file.
